


Volition

by FanficAllergy, RoseFyre



Series: Hunger Games Soulmate Fics [8]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: 74th Hunger Games, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Platonic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2018-12-25 04:19:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12027975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanficAllergy/pseuds/FanficAllergy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseFyre/pseuds/RoseFyre
Summary: Soulmates-verse. Katniss didn’t think she had a soulmate.  She certainly didn’t think she’d meet them because of the Hunger Games. Fate’s funny like that. Katniss would like to shoot Fate through the eye, because she’s funny like that.





	1. Selection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MTK4FUN](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MTK4FUN/gifts).



> Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.
> 
> Theme: 23: Stubborn  
> Summary: Soulmates-verse. Katniss didn’t think she had a soulmate. She certainly didn’t think she’d meet them because of the Hunger Games. Fate’s funny like that. Katniss would like to shoot Fate through the eye, because she’s funny like that.  
> Notes: This will go on AO3 first, then on FF.net as one long “chapter” as part of Patchwork when complete.

****

 

**oOo**

 

The heat in the town square pressed on the children waiting for the Reaping to start.  People were fanning themselves, trying not to pass out.  Katniss just wanted the day to be over so she and Gale could return to the woods.  Standing here in the sun wasn’t going to put food on her family’s table.

 

Finally, the District escort, Effie Trinket, minced up on stage, her high heels echoing across the square.  She recited the same tired speech, told the same stupid jokes, and exclaimed the same inane opening line of “Ladies first!”  

 

The heavily made-up woman swished her hand around the large fishbowl, pulling out a slip of paper.  Katniss held her breath.

 

“Primrose Everdeen!”

 

The air in her lungs expelled in an audible gasp.  All around her, people let out little cries of dismay.  Prim was well-known and well-loved throughout the district, but everyone knew the twelve-year-old didn’t stand a chance in the Games.  

 

Prim stood rooted to the ground in shock, the crowd of girls stepping away from her like she had some kind of disease.  

 

Katniss’s eyes were glued to the back of her sister’s neck and the orange cat eye just peeking over the edge of her collar.  Prim’s soulmark.  Vick Hawthorne had a matching one on the back of his left calf. They were both so young.  Vick wasn’t even eligible for the Reaping yet. They had their whole lives ahead of them.  

 

And unlike Prim, Katniss didn’t have a soulmate.

 

In that moment Katniss made her choice.

 

“I volunteer!  I volunteer as tribute!”

 

**oOo**

 

Katniss had never seen so much food in one place in her entire life.  There was enough laid out on the table to feed her family for a month and still have some left over.  

 

To her surprise, her district partner, Peeta, seemed as shocked as she was.

 

“I’ve never seen so much food in one place in my entire life,” Peeta breathed, unconsciously echoing her earlier thoughts.

 

She looked at him in surprise.  He was a Merchant, the son of the baker.  The bakery was always full of food.  Cakes, cookies, pies… Katniss’s mouth watered as she remembered the beautiful displays in the bakery window.  Was Peeta lying?  Or was she missing something?

 

He turned to look at her, a blush rising up his cheeks.  “We eat stale bread at home.  New bread isn’t for us, it’s for selling.  We eat what doesn’t.”

 

It made sense.  There was no point in letting food go to waste in Twelve, even in the richer families.

 

“And all those cakes in the window?”

 

Katniss nodded for him to continue.

 

“They’re cardboard.  The ingredients are too precious to waste on a display.”

 

“Oh.”  She’d never thought of it, but of course they weren’t real cakes.  Cakes were expensive.  Too expensive to sit in a window, unsold.

 

“You know I always envied you?” Peeta said, continuing the one-sided conversation.  “You got to have something different for dinner every night.  Whether it was squirrel or fish or even just bread and cheese, it was different.  The only time we ever got anything different was when my father bought one of your squirrels.  The rest of the time it was just stale bread.  Day in, day out.”  He picked up a croissant and looked at it wryly.  “Not gonna have to worry about that anymore.”

 

Katniss didn’t try to give him any false platitudes.  It was the truth.  Neither of them had to worry about where their next meal was coming from, at least not until they got to the Games.  And there, it was more likely they’d be killed by some tribute’s spear than by starvation.

 

She picked up a croissant, considering Peeta’s words.  Considering the time he’d given her bread when he didn’t have to.  “You know,” she said slowly, deliberately, “we could last longer if there’s two of us.”

 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Haymitch’s head jerk up and his gray eyes narrowed consideringly.

 

“Are you suggesting an alliance?” Peeta asked, his voice tinged with hope.

 

“Yeah,” she said, confirming her decision.  “I think I am.  What do you say?  Partners?”  She held out her hand.

 

He clasped it warmly.

 

A little jolt of something zinged through her.  It wasn’t the sensation of meeting her soulmate, so Peeta wasn’t.  Her mother had always said she’d know her soulmate when she met them.  But it was something, though she wasn’t sure what.

 

Peeta smiled at her.  “Partners.”

 

**oOo**

 

Katniss was cold.  This was unsurprising, considering she was naked and lying on a metal slab while three of the most colorful human beings in Panem did things to her.

 

She was doing her best to follow Haymitch’s advice, but it was hard.  Especially when they started ripping away whole swaths of her leg hair.  Methodically, they removed every follicle below her neck, before getting to work on her eyebrows and upper lip.  It was torture, and Katniss couldn’t imagine what other horrors would follow.  But for now, she decided not to protest.

 

Finally, the three jabberjays deemed that she was good enough to meet Cinna.  The way they said the stylist’s name was somewhere between reverence and barely controlled excitement.  

 

Katniss couldn’t imagine thinking of anyone that way.  She wondered just what this Cinna would look like, if he would be even more colorful and ostentatious than the three members of the prep team.

 

When the man finally entered the room, Katniss stared at him in shock.  He was quite possibly the most normal-looking Capitolite she’d ever seen.  Only the quality of his clothing and a hint of gold eyeliner against his rich, dark skin hinted at his esteemed origins.  

 

“That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”  He extended a hand.  “I’m Cinna.”

 

At his words, a strange sensation formed in her stomach, like someone was tracing their fingers over that part of her body.  She reached up to feel the phantom hand and found her own skin.  

 

Her eyes leapt to his.  “What--”  She couldn’t finish the thought.

 

But it was enough.

 

His left hand clutched at his right forearm.  After a minute, he rolled up his sleeve to reveal a gold mockingjay etched on his skin.

 

She glanced down at her stomach, seeing the same mark outlined just above her navel.

 

Katniss knew what this meant.  This Cinna was her soulmate.

 

**oOo**


	2. Preparation

**oOo**

 

So what do you do when you’re a stylist and you find out your soulmate is about to go into the Hunger Games?  

 

In Cinna’s case, you invite them to dinner.

 

The food looked delicious and smelled even better, but Katniss couldn’t taste any of it.  She was in shock.  This wasn’t supposed to happen!  She wasn’t supposed to have a soulmate!

 

She regarded the older man.  He was not quite Haymitch’s age, but nowhere near her own.  Fate must be laughing at her. What use was finding out she had a soulmate now?  They’d barely get a week together.  It wasn’t like the Capitol would exempt her from the Hunger Games, and even if she won, where would they live?  By law, soulmates were required to get married.  In the case of her parents, it had been a blessing.  But in the case of the Mellarks...  

 

And truth be told, she wasn’t sure she wanted to marry Cinna anyway.  She supposed he was attractive enough, but when she closed her eyes and tried to picture making love to him, his hazel eyes lightened to blue and his features morphed into Peeta Mellark’s.  Which was strange.  Wasn’t Cinna supposed to be her perfect match?  Her parents had been soulmates and her sister was already planning her wedding to Vick.  Why wasn’t she interested in Cinna?  

 

She let out her breath in a huge puff of air.

 

“That’s a big sigh.”  

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

“Don’t be.  This situation isn’t ideal, I admit, but I’m happy to meet you, Katniss Everdeen.”

 

She bit her lip.  “You are?”

 

“Of course, I am.” His voice was calm.  Smooth.  Like silk over glass. It was the kind of voice which could lull a child to sleep. And it soothed the edges of her frayed nerves like a balm.  “It isn’t every day you find out your soulmate is one of the most amazing people you’ve had the honor of knowing.”

 

“You’ve known me for less than an hour.”

 

“What can I say?  You make quite an impression.”  He took a sip from his wineglass.  “I have a confession.”

 

She looked at him in confusion.

 

“As lovely as you are, and you are lovely, my dear, I’m… just not interested.”

 

“In me?”  

 

“Oh no, it’s not you,” he hastened to explain.  “I’m not interested in sex.  In romance.  With anybody.  I’m honored the universe deemed me important enough to give me a soulmate, but I’m afraid a deep and platonic friendship is all I can offer.”

 

Katniss felt a wave of relief, immediately followed by one of dread.  “It’s not like I have long to live anyway.  So I suppose friendship is for the best.”

 

“You say that like you’re planning on dying.”

 

She was in the Hunger Games.  Twenty-four tributes went in, one came out.  And it had been twenty-three Games since Twelve had had a Victor.  “The odds aren’t in my favor.”

 

He took one of her hands and looked her right in the eye.  “They will be if I have anything to say about it.”

 

**oOo**

 

Katniss was on fire.

 

Not literally, although her costumes all had a fire theme, with the pinnacle being her parade outfit, when she was engulfed in synthetic flames. But Katniss was also figuratively on fire.  She’d received the highest training score, the Capitol bookies were giving her the best odds, and she’d even been approached by two of the Careers, inviting her to their alliance.  She’d refused, of course, but the fact she’d been offered it at all was an indication of just how much of a threat they thought she was.

 

Now she had to do the impossible.  Ace the interview.

 

Even with Haymitch and Effie’s coaching, she still had the personality of a dead slug.  Haymitch’s words, not hers.  But she couldn’t disagree.

 

Thank goodness for Cinna.

 

Through everything, he’d been solid and supportive, knowing just the right things to say to keep her spirits up.  While Peeta was a rock-solid partner, Cinna was the friend she needed.

 

And she was going to need him now.

 

As she walked onstage, she spotted her soulmate out of the corner of her eye, seated near the front of the theater, his warm hazel eyes conveying approval and admiration.  The butterflies in her stomach started to calm slightly.

 

She couldn’t remember much of the interview with Caesar.  They talked about her sister and why she volunteered.  Caesar asked her what she thought of the Capitol, which led her thoughts straight to her soulmate.  Therefore, instead of talking about the food, which otherwise probably would have been her answer, she decided to talk about how she’d found so many wonderful people in the Capitol; it was a great surprise and she wished she’d gotten to explore it more.  The comment wasn’t directed at anyone but her soulmate.  If she died tomorrow in the bloodbath, the one thing she would regret, other than not kissing Peeta, a voice in her head whispered, would be that she’d never have the chance to get to know her soulmate outside of the stresses of the Hunger Games.

 

That comment went over well with the crowds, as did her girlish twirling, showing off Cinna’s amazing creation.

 

After her three minutes were up, she felt better about her chances.

 

Then it was Peeta’s turn.

 

He was charming, vivacious, personable.  He made the crowd laugh with an anecdote about his first experience with the Capitol showers.  Like a skilled fisherman, he reeled the Capitol in before going for the kill.

 

When Caesar asked his go-to question of “is there anyone waiting for you at home?” Peeta rubbed the back of his neck and let out an overly dramatic sigh. 

 

“Well, there is a girl I like.  But I’m pretty sure she didn’t know I existed until I got Reaped.”

 

Caesar leaned toward him, glee on his face.  “I tell you what.  When you win this thing, you can go back home to Twelve and tell your girl how you really feel.”

 

Peeta sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.  “Winning... won’t help in this case.”

 

“And why’s that?”

 

“Because she came here with me.”

 

Katniss gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.  Around her the crowd mirrored her astonishment.  She felt the heat of thousands of eyes settle on her.

 

What should she do?  Should she say something?  Should she smile?  She didn’t know what was the right choice.

 

All she could do was stare at Peeta in shock.  A maelstrom of emotions threatened to overwhelm her.  Part of her was upset he hadn’t told her sooner.  Another part was angry he’d made his declaration in front of Panem without ever talking with her.  Yet another part couldn’t believe he meant her.  But the last and largest part felt elated that he wanted her.  Her hands drifted downward and a slight, almost shy smile, slipped over her lips.

 

When she confronted him backstage, the first words out of her mouth were, “Did you mean that?” rather than ‘You had no right!’ which she would have said if she’d let her anger guide her.

 

Peeta squared his shoulders, his eyes meeting hers.  “With all my heart.”

 

**oOo**

 

Katniss and Peeta slept in the same room the night before the Games, in the same bed.  They’d fallen asleep talking, about themselves, each other, and the Games.  Neither of them had wanted to go any further than that.  After all, despite Peeta’s declaration, they were practically strangers.  Still, it felt good to share the burden of going into the Games with someone who could understand.

 

When they woke up the morning of the Games, she felt surprisingly well-rested.  Katniss even had a bit of an appetite, which surprised her.  She’d thought she’d be too nervous.  However, Peeta picked at his food, breaking apart a croissant and rolling it into little balls.

 

“What’s wrong?” she asked around a mouthful of fruit.

 

“Nothing,” he said quickly.

 

She raised an eyebrow.

 

“It’s just… I’m not supposed to tell you.”

 

“Is this another declaration like last night?”

 

“No…”

 

She set down her spoon.  “Then what?  You’re making me nervous.”  

 

“You promise not to get mad?”

 

“No, why would anyone promise that?”

 

“I meant, I don’t want you to get mad at me.”

 

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m getting mad at you now.”

 

Peeta sighed, pushing around the little balls of croissant, before coming to a decision.  “Haymitch wants me to ally with the Careers.  And… I’m gonna do it.”

 

“What?  Why?  I don’t--”  She cut herself off.  The thought of Peeta allying with those killers frightened her beyond coherent thought.  “I think you’d better explain.”

 

“I’m supposed to ally with the Careers.  Not for real, but… so I can get close to them, maybe kill one or two, and then escape, taking some of their supplies with me.  I’m also supposed to keep them from killing you.”

 

“But they’ll kill you!”

 

Peeta’s lips quirked up into a half-smile.  “I’m okay with dying, so long as you get to win.”

 

“Did you ever think I might not be okay with it?”

 

“The thought never crossed my mind.”  He paused, looking at her.  “I’m sorry.  But I’ve made up my mind, and I’m going to do it.  I’m gonna ally with the Careers.  It’s the best chance you’ve got of winning.”

 

“No!  We can figure something else out!”

 

“Too late,” he said, looking up at Cinna and Portia, who’d come to collect them.  “We’re out of time.”

 

She didn’t want to believe that.

 

**oOo**

 

Katniss sat in the Launch Room, her elbows resting on her knees, her head cradled in her hands, waiting for Cinna to arrive.  Ostensibly it was to help her get dressed in whatever attire the Capitol deemed appropriate for this year’s Arena.  But for Katniss, it was her only opportunity to say goodbye to her soulmate.

 

When the stylist walked in, he didn’t say anything.  Instead, he opened his arms wide and waited.  She went to him, drawing comfort from his warm embrace.  They didn’t need words.

 

Katniss was the first to pull back.  “I’m sorry.”

 

He shook his head, a smile on his lips.  “I’m not.  Even if we only had this one week, I’m honored to have been,” he seemed to think the better of what he’d been about to say, “friend.”  The words were low, pitched so only she could hear them, and his eyes darted to the corners of the room. He paused, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders.  “But I think you're going to win this, Katniss Everdeen.  I’m not allowed to bet, but if I could, I’d bet on you.”

 

“But that means Peeta’s going to die.”

 

“That’s how the Games work.”

 

“I’m not going to let him die,” she said firmly.  “Not for me.”

 

Cinna nodded.  “That’s your choice.  And I’ll stand by you.”

 

She hugged him again, saying goodbye the only way she could.  “Thank you.”

 

He held her tightly.  “Anything, girl on fire.”

 

**oOo**


	3. Cooperation

**oOo**

 

Katniss was in a tree.  She didn’t plan on being in a tree.  She didn’t particularly want to be in a tree.  It just happened to be the safest place at the moment.

 

Beneath her, the Careers slept, waiting for her to give up and come down.  She wondered what had happened to the boy from Four.  Did Peeta kill him?  Was that how he got the Career pack to accept him?  She didn’t know. She didn’t want to know.

 

A noise from her left got her attention.  It wasn’t quite a bird call, but it was close.

 

Katniss searched the dense foliage before she spotted two dark eyes blinking at her.  Rue.

 

The girl whistled again, then pointed.

 

Katniss followed the line of her finger to a tracker jacker nest hanging from a branch about fifteen feet above her.

 

She could do it.  She could cut the branch and send it careening onto the tributes scattered below her.  But that meant she’d also drop the nest onto Peeta.  Which she really didn’t want to do.  There had to be another choice.  She needed to find a way to get the boy with the bread’s attention, but not alert the Careers to what she was planning.

 

She nodded once at the younger girl in thanks.

 

Rue let out a little whistle, then started hopping through the trees like a squirrel.

 

Katniss stared after her in shock, stifling the urge to laugh in delight.  No wonder she’d scored a seven in training!

 

She glanced around to see what she could use.  Obviously, calling out to him wouldn’t work.  But maybe she could wake him up and motion for him to get away.

 

She didn’t have much.  And nothing in her pack would work.  Finally, she broke off a small piece of bark.  It wasn’t big, but it had a little bit of weight to it.  She should be able to lob it near Peeta, if not on him, and even if she missed, it was innocuous enough that the Careers wouldn’t think anything of it.

 

Carefully, she took aim.  She really only had one shot at this.  Then she flicked her wrist, praying the piece of bark wouldn’t hit any branches on its way down.

 

It didn’t.

 

But it didn’t fly true either.  The piece landed a few inches to the left of Peeta’s hand.  Close, but not quite close enough.

 

She’d pried another piece of bark from the trunk when she noticed movement from out of the corner of her eye.  Peeta was propped up on his elbows, staring up at her.

 

She pointed to the nest above her head, then motioned for him to run.

 

He narrowed his eyes in confusion.

 

She repeated the pantomime.

 

This time he got it.

 

Slowly, carefully, he got to his feet, grabbing what he could, then began tiptoeing away from the base of the tree.

 

Katniss winced at each footfall.  The moment she got out of this tree, she was going to teach him how to walk silently.

 

But she didn’t have time to think about the future.  She needed to concentrate on the now.

 

She climbed the tree, the branches straining underneath her weight.  Her arms shook as she sawed her way through the branch.  She could make out the black and gold bodies of the tracker jackers swarming around their nest.  They were still groggy from the smoke from the Gamemaker trap earlier.  That was good: less chance of her being stung.

 

Arms aching, she sawed through the thick branch with her hunting knife.  But finally, the limb gave a mighty crack and plummeted to the earth.  The nest exploded like an egg dropped onto pavement, spilling insects everywhere.

 

The Careers let out howls of pain.  The girl from One, Glimmer, screamed once, then fell to the ground, her face a mass of stings.  The girl from Two, Clove, ran several steps before she, too, succumbed to the insects.  The girl from Four never got the chance to do any of those.  Her scream cut off with an aborted gurgle as the bees attacked her open mouth.

 

The boys fared better, screaming and flailing as they ran to the lake, the surviving swarm following them.

 

Katniss had to act quickly.  The Gamemakers would arrive to collect the bodies soon.  And she wanted to pilfer what supplies she could from the corpses.  She especially wanted the bow and arrows lying next to the girl from One.

 

She scurried down the tree, ignoring her scraped hands, which were protesting the whole way.  She picked up knives, a backpack, then zeroed in on the ultimate prize: the bow and arrows.  As she snatched them up, she felt the unmistakable pinprick of a sting.  Apparently not all of the swarm had followed the boys from One and Two.

 

She needed to get away before she got stung more.  She staggered through the woods, her prizes clutched in her hands, before she fell in the shadow of a fallen tree and succumbed to the poison.

 

**oOo**

 

Katniss opened her eyes to darkness.  Complete and utter darkness.  She closed her eyes and opened them again.  Still dark.  A pit a dread formed in her stomach.  She was blind.  The tracker jackers did something to her and now she was blind.

 

She let out a little moan.  She was dead.  Not officially.  But there was no way she could win the Games.  Not now.  

 

“Katniss?” a girl’s voice said from her left.  “Are you awake?”

 

The voice sounded so similar to Prim’s that for a moment Katniss thought she was trapped in a dream.  But the accent was wrong and the timbre was just a shade higher.  So not Prim.

 

But who then?

 

An image flitted through her brain.  The girl from Eleven.

 

“Rue?”

 

“You are awake!  We were so worried about you!”

 

“We?”

 

She heard a shuffling to her left.  “Me and Peeta.  He carried you here.”

 

Katniss digested the words.  “Where’s here?”

 

“A cave by the stream,” Rue answered.  “I found it.”  There was a hint of pride in her voice.  “We decided to ally, all three of us.”

 

The shuffling continued until Rue let out a noise of satisfaction. A few seconds later, a spark of light filled the cave.  A match lighting a small fire.  

 

Relief flowed through Katniss; she wasn’t blind.  She was just in a cave.  She located the small partially obstructed entrance and noted it was night out.  That explained the pervasive darkness.

 

“Where’s Peeta?” she asked, not seeing the boy anywhere.  Her heart made a little flip.  He was fine, right?  Surely he didn’t get her to safety only to die while she was unconscious.

 

Rue seemed unaware of her worry and answered lightly, “Oh!  He’s just outside, keeping watch.  You really did a number on the Careers.  They’re down to just two now!  The boys from One and Two.  But Peeta says they’re the most dangerous.”

 

Katniss nodded.  “Who’s left?”

 

Rue screwed up her face in concentration.  “The boy from One, the boy from Two, the boy from Three… huh, there’s a lot of boys left.  The girl from Five.  The boy from Ten.  Thresh, and us.  So, nine of us.”

 

So just one more to go until the final eight, Katniss thought.  Cinna must be happy right now.  “Do you know where the other tributes are?”

 

Rue nodded.  “Well, some of them.  I don’t know where Thresh, the boy from Ten, or the girl from Five are, but the boys from One, Two, and Three are camped out by the lake near the Cornucopia.  They have a huge pile of supplies!  There’s no way we’ll be able to outlast them.”

 

Katniss chewed her lower lip, a glimmer of an idea forming in her head.  

 

“Rue?  Katniss?  You awake?”  Peeta’s voice filtered down from the opening.

 

“I am now,” Katniss said, her heart lightening at hearing Peeta’s voice.  “Can you join us?  I think I’ve got an idea about how to hobble the Careers.”

 

**oOo**


	4. Determination

**oOo**

 

Katniss and Rue crept through the brush to the edge of the clearing by the Career camp.

 

Katniss took a moment to survey her surroundings, counting tributes and getting the lay of the land.  The supplies from the Cornucopia were stacked haphazardly into a large pile, maybe twenty-five feet from the edge of the forest.  About fifteen feet away from the clearing’s edge sat their lean-to and a single tent.  Under the lean-to lay a sleeping form, she couldn’t tell who it was, if it was the boy from One or Two.  The boy from Three sat on the ground outside the tent, a spear resting against his shoulder, fiddling with something shiny with dangling wires.

 

There was no way to tell if there was anyone in the tent.  For all she knew, there could’ve been.

 

She turned to her ally.  “Can you get a better look?”  She nodded toward a tall tree with branches that extended out into the clearing.  It looked climbable, but Katniss was certain she was too heavy for the higher branches.

 

Rue nodded, scampering up the old oak like a squirrel into the canopy.  The girl from Eleven eased out onto one of the limbs that overlooked the clearing.  So long as Rue didn’t move, she should be safe.

 

Where was the third tribute?

 

As if in answer, a cannon boomed.  Katniss’s stomach clenched in worry.  Was Peeta okay?  There was no way she could bring him with her, not with his heavy footfalls, but was leaving him back at the cave a mistake?

 

She dashed angrily with one hand at the tears that had started to form in her eyes.  She didn’t have time for sorrow now.

 

The figure underneath the lean-to sat up, revealing the boy from Two, Cato.  A huge grin split his face.  “Final eight, baby.  Oh yeah!”

 

The boy from Three grunted, still intent on the object in his hands.

 

Less than a minute later, Rue let out a little whistle.  

 

A warning.

 

Katniss dove for cover underneath a juniper bush.

 

A few moments later, she heard it.  The sound of approaching footsteps.  The boy from One burst through the woods less than five feet from where she was concealed, a bloody spear held triumphantly over his head.  “Killed the crippled pig from Ten!”

 

Cato snorted.  “Big deal.  Not like it was a real challenge.”

 

“Better than you, laying in bed like a lump.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“You fuck you!”

 

Katniss rolled her eyes.

 

“So did you see any sign of Eleven or Twelve?”

 

“No.”

 

“Good.  That bitch from Twelve is mine.”

 

“Whatever.  Just so long as I get the highest kill count, I don’t care.”  The boy from One looked around.  “Got anything to eat?”

 

Cato motioned at a pile of supplies near the front of the lean-to.

 

Shooting another sneer at his fellow Career, the boy from One set his spear against the side of the lean-to and started rifling through the cans and packets of food.

 

Out of the corner of her eye, Katniss caught a flash of red sneaking through the clearing.  It was that Foxface girl.  From the angle of her approach, the three boys wouldn’t be able to see her through the stacks of boxes.

 

Hm.  Clever.

 

When she was maybe ten feet away from the supplies, the girl started doing this weird hopping dance.

 

Katniss watched her with curiosity.  Why would she risk being spotted to do that?  It didn’t make sense.

 

Foxface paused and slowly, carefully, reached forward to snag a couple of apples from a mesh bag.  Clutching her prizes to her chest, the girl did the same hopping dance, this time in the opposite direction.

 

“Fuck this,” the boy from One said, standing up.  “I want something fresh.  I’m gonna grab an apple.”

 

He took a few steps to the side and stopped.  He’d spotted the girl from Five.  “Cato!” he  hissed.  “Pass me my spear!”

 

Cato stood up and tossed the bloodied weapon to his ally.

 

Foxface turned, her eyes widening in terror when she spotted the tall Career.  She took off like an arrow, darting for the safety of the treeline.

 

The boy from One took two powerful strides forward and hurled the spear through the air.  Whistling as it flew, the spear embedded itself into Foxface’s back with a meaty thunk.

 

She fell forward, the apples in her hands rolling forlornly along the ground.

 

“Booyah!  That’s how you do it!”  He did a little dance.  “Oh yeah!  Just took out another one!”

 

Cato grunted, but moved closer to check out the fallen tribute.

 

The boy from Three stood, his hands clutching the shiny object.  The tribute’s eyes weren’t on the dead girl from Five, but the two Careers who’d come within ten feet of the supply pile.  His hands twitched.

 

BOOM!

 

The earth exploded, taking the pile of supplies with it.  The ground shook and Katniss was flattened to the ground by the concussive blast. The boys from One and Two didn’t even have a moment to register the destruction before they were turned to bloody mist.  Shrapnel flew everywhere, raining down on Katniss like lethal snowflakes.  The whole clearing was blanketed in destruction. 

 

The boy from Three smiled, dropping the detonator to the ground, before he followed it, a thick piece of wood impaling itself in his chest.

 

From high above, there came a loud crash that penetrated the ringing in Katniss’s ears.

 

Rue tumbled to the ground in a bloody heap.

 

Katniss cried out, scrambling to her feet to go to her ally’s aid.  She rolled the little girl over on her back, searching frantically for any sign of life.  Rue was covered in blood.  Bright, red, gushing blood from an injury on her neck.  One of the shrapnel pieces must have severed her carotid artery.

 

Katniss placed her hands over the wound, trying desperately to stem the tide.  But she couldn’t.

 

Rue’s eyes fluttered open and the little girl tried to say something, but either she said it too softly and Katniss couldn’t hear, or she couldn’t get the words out.  Either way, the words were lost.

 

Rue died seconds later, her life soaking into the dry earth.

 

Katniss screamed.  It wasn’t fair!  Rue shouldn’t be dead, not like this.  Not here.  She should be back at home, playing with her brothers and sisters, bright and vibrant and full of life.

 

Tears streamed down Katniss’s cheeks.  She couldn’t believe the little girl was dead.  She had to do something to honor her memory.

 

Determined, she got up, and headed to the forest’s edge.  There, she picked every flower she could find until she couldn’t carry anymore.  Then she brought them back to the little girl’s body.  She started at the neck, covering the wound that had taken the young girl’s life with primrose, wild carrot, and violets.  When her first armful was gone, Katniss went and gathered another.  And then another.

 

She knelt down beside Rue’s covered body and bowed her head, letting the tears fall.

 

Another bundle of flowers appeared in front of her nose.  

 

Katniss looked up, startled, to see Thresh standing there, a solemn expression on his face.

 

“Here,” he said, shaking the bouquet slightly.  “For the little girl.”

 

Katniss nodded numbly and placed Thresh’s offering on Rue’s chest.

 

Slowly, shakily, she rose to her feet.  “Are you gonna kill me?”

 

Thresh glanced at Rue’s body, then back up at her.  From the set of his jaw, Katniss knew he’d made a choice.  “Not today, Twelve.  Not today.”

 

**oOo**

 

The blood on her hands stained the small stream pink.  Rue’s blood.  Katniss didn’t think she’d ever be able to wash it off completely.

 

She splashed cold water on her cheeks, trying to soothe her tear-streaked face and maybe undo a little bit of the damage her grief had wrought.

 

Katniss looked up and froze, her eyes fixated on a low bush just on the other side of the stream.  Nightlock!  Dark, almost black, berries gleamed in the sun-dappled light.  Their plump flesh was genetically engineered to look as enticing as possible.  Their flesh promised sweetness and sustenance, but Katniss knew that promise was a lie.  The plant was a deadly creation of the Capitol.  If the tiniest drop of juice hit your stomach, you were dead.  Her father had painstakingly taught her how to identify and destroy any bushes she found.  They were just that deadly.  Katniss wasn’t surprised that some sadistic Gamemaker had included them in the Arena.

 

But the berries could be her salvation.  Once Thresh was dead, she’d wondered how she’d be able to kill herself without the Gamemakers interfering.  A handful of nightlock berries was the answer.  It would only take one, and there was no way that they could get to her in time to stop her from sacrificing herself to save the boy with the bread.

 

She waded across the stream, getting her clothes wet, and gathered as many berries as she could, wrapping them in a plastic bag that had once held a few strips of beef jerky.  She returned to the stream and washed her hands, scouring them with sand until they were raw and red.  She didn’t want to accidentally poison herself, leaving Peeta alone to face the boy from Eleven.

 

With a heavy heart, Katniss resumed her trek back toward the cave, hoping she’d find Peeta there, that he hadn’t left the relative safety of the cave to check on her and Rue.

 

She slipped through the trees, her steps making almost no sound.  The mockingjays were raucous over her head, calling snippets and jumbles of copied birdsong.  Here and there she heard the little whistle Rue’d taught her so they could keep in contact if they got separated.  Rue…

 

She wished she could’ve saved Rue.  But she supposed it was better this way.  At least the little girl had died quickly, almost painlessly.  And even better, Katniss or Peeta didn’t have to be the one to kill her.  Katniss couldn’t burden Peeta like that, but she didn’t think she could do it herself.

 

The sound of a large animal crashing through the woods jerked her out of her wallow.  Was it Thresh going back on his word?  Or was it some horror released by the Capitol to make the Games more exciting?  Katniss didn’t know.

 

She glanced around, noting she was in a stand of birch and aspen trees, neither of which were good for climbing.  The only thing she could do was hide, and there wasn’t much cover to be seen.  She flattened herself on the ground, the detritus from the forest floor over her, and held her breath.

 

“Katniss?  Rue?”

 

A wash of relief flooded through her.  Peeta!

 

She stood up, brushing herself off.  “I’m over here!”

 

The clashing intensified until Peeta burst into view.

 

Katniss shook her head.  The guy was hopeless when it came to basic things like walking silently.  He might decorate a mean cake, but that wouldn’t keep him alive during the Games.

 

The relief on Peeta’s face when he laid eyes on her was palpable.  He let out a little squeal and broke into a run.  When he reached her, he gathered her up into his arms, his lips descending down onto hers.

 

The kiss wasn’t passionate, although it was filled with emotion.  Relief.  Desire.  Love flowed through his lips and into her.  She’d never been kissed like this before.  It was even fair to say she’d never been kissed.  The dry pecks a few Seam boys had stolen at various celebrations couldn’t hold a candle to Peeta’s.  An ember of something flared to life deep in her core.  She returned the kiss, part of her wishing they could stay like that forever. 

 

He pulled away, tears streaming down his face.  “I thought you were dead.  I heard six cannons.  I thought you were dead!”  His fingers traced the contours of her face, as if he couldn’t quite believe she was standing before him.

 

Katniss didn’t quite believe it herself.  “I’m here, I’m fine.”  The words were half to comfort him, half to reassure herself. 

 

“Rue?”  His voice didn’t hold much hope.

 

She shook her head.

 

“Did you kill whoever did it?”

 

“They killed themselves.  The boy from Three set off a bomb, took out the rest of the Careers and…”  She trailed off.

 

“So who’s left?”

 

“Thresh.”

 

“He’s not gonna be easy to kill.”  Peeta wrapped his arms around her. 

 

“No,” Katniss agreed, resting her head against his broad chest and thinking about how Thresh had spared her life, “he’s not.”

 

**oOo**


	5. Connection

**oOo**

 

They held hands all the way back to the cave, Peeta unwilling to let her go now that they’d been reunited.

 

Katniss didn’t mind.  She understood his anxiety and need for reassurance. So many tributes had died, including Rue.  If Peeta had accompanied them… She didn’t know what she would do if she lost him.  The connection she felt with the boy with the bread was what she thought she’d have with her soulmate. That sort of all-consuming need to be with them, protect them, love them.  She cared for Cinna.  She did.  But only as a friend, a brother.  Not someone that she wanted to settle down with, marry, grow old with.

 

That was assuming she’d grow old, something that seemed pretty far-fetched in her current predicament.

 

They reached the cave right as the sun began to set.  Now that she was no longer moving, she felt the chill from her wet clothing start to leach all the warmth from her body.  Shivering, she slipped inside the cave, peeling off her sodden boots, socks, and pants.  Her jacket came next, leaving her clad only in her light-green blouse and underwear.  Eyeing the black fabric of her jacket, she frowned. She’d managed to scrub some of the blood from it, but it’d need a more thorough washing before it’d be truly clean.

 

“Katniss?” Peeta said, stepping into the cave.  “Did you want some fish?  I caught a couple while you...”  His voice trailed off into a strangled gasp.

 

She turned to see him staring at her, his eyes wide, his mouth agape.  She felt a low flush of heat staining her cheeks.  

 

“I’m sorry!”  He darted back outside.  “I’ll, I’ll come back later!”

 

She finished removing her wet clothes and spread them out to dry before slipping into their lone sleeping bag.  “You can come in now,” Katniss called, smoothing the fabric of the black bag with her fingers.

 

Peeta returned, the knuckles of his hand white as he clutched a sheet of bark with a small cooked fish on it.  “I didn’t see anything, I swear.”

 

“It’s okay.  It’s not like there’s much to see.”

 

Peeta’s ears grew red.  “So did you want this?”

 

“Maybe later.”  She usually wouldn’t turn down food, but she didn’t think she could eat right now.  Not after the bloodbath by the Cornucopia.  “I’m not that hungry.”

 

Peeta knelt down next to her, setting the food down beside him.  “I’m gonna miss her too.  Rue…”  He paused, trying to find the right words.  “She never should’ve been in these Games.”  Katniss could tell he wanted to say more, but knew every word was being televised.  Knew that if he said the wrong thing his family would suffer the consequences.  He was skirting the edge of sedition, but not quite stepping over the line.

 

She knew how he felt.  “No, she shouldn’t have.”

 

They fell silent, each of them locked in their own thoughts.  The quiet stretched out between them like a chasm, neither one quite sure what to say.

 

Eventually Peeta cleared his throat.  “So, um… I’m sorry I kissed you.”

 

Katniss’s heart sunk.  Was he regretting the kiss? Did she do it wrong?  “Why?” she asked, embarrassed by just how small her voice sounded.

 

“I should’ve asked you first.”

 

Katniss tilted her head.  “Is that what you’re supposed to do, ask?”  It wasn’t like she’d ever kissed anyone before, with or without permission.

 

“Well, yeah.”  Peeta sat back on his heels.  “At least, that’s what my mom taught me.  Good boys ask permission first,” he said, taking on his mother’s cadence.

 

That explained so much.  He wasn’t regretting the kiss, he was feeling guilty that he hadn’t asked first. An idea struck her. “So… why don’t you just ask permission now?”

 

He stared at her, blinking.

 

Katniss waited.

 

“So… can I kiss you?”  His voice was nervous, hesitant. 

 

“Yes.”

 

Peeta still looked confused.  “Are you saying yes for now or for before?”

 

“Yes,” Katniss said, willing him to understand.

 

Understanding dawned on his features.  Leaning over, he pressed his lips to hers.  

 

Her response was immediate.  Flinging her arms around his neck, she rose to meet him.  This was what she wanted.  This was what she craved.  The connection.  The heat.  She’d believed she’d only feel this way with her soulmate.  Katniss never imagined she’d feel this much hunger, desire, with someone else.  Especially someone she’d essentially met in the Hunger Games.  

 

Peeta’s lips made her forget she was in a battle of life and death.  His mouth drowned out her feelings of guilt and despair over Rue, over her imminent demise, over everything.  She was lost in his kisses.  Slowly consumed by the ever growing fire within her.  

 

Gasping for breath, Peeta tore himself away from her mouth.  They stared at each other, panting.  Katniss wasn’t sure if it was from running out of of air or from the kisses themselves.

 

“Wow,” Peeta said, after several deep breaths.  “Thank you, Katniss, That was...” the normally eloquent boy struggled to find the right word… and failed, “...just... wow!”

 

Katniss unzipped the sleeping bag and propped it open.  “Join me?”

 

He blinked.

 

“We don’t have to do anything,” she said, her cheeks flaming.  “But can you just hold me?”

 

His adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he nodded.  He slipped into the bag and pulled her into his arms so that she was lying on top of his broad chest.  His hands drew little patterns on her arms and back.  

 

Laying her head over his heart, she marveled in the sensations. She felt warm.  Safe. Protected.  “Tell me about yourself,” she asked, her fingers playing with the dark cotton of his shirt.

 

Peeta laughed, his whole body shaking.  “I’m nothing special.  I’m not interesting like you.”

 

“That’s not true.  I’m the nobody.  You’re Peeta Mellark, the baker’s son, the second-best wrestler in the district.  Me?  I’m just another coal miner’s daughter.”

 

“You’re not just another coal miner’s daughter.”  He paused.  “Do you remember the first day of school?”

 

Katniss was confused.  Sure, she remembered it.  She remembered her dad taking the day off work to walk her to school because she was so scared she wouldn’t make any friends.  She remembered him braiding her hair into two plaits, and the surprise of the red checked dress he’d saved up for months to purchase from the tailor in town.  She remembered him holding her hand as they walked through the Seam. It was one of her favorite memories.  She nodded. 

 

“Do you remember the teacher asking for volunteers to sing ‘The Valley Song?’”

 

She did.  She’d volunteered, since she knew the song.  And back then, she’d liked singing, and not just for Prim either.  “Yeah.”

 

“You were so determined,” Peeta said, his voice taking on a distant quality.  “Beautiful.  And from the first note, I was a goner.  Everyone stopped to listen.  Even the birds.  It was like they knew.”

 

“You know--” 

 

He silenced her with one finger.  “I do.  It doesn’t matter.  You’re it for me, Katniss.  You’ve always been it.”

 

The words struck a chord inside her, ringing loud and pure with truth.  She thought back to every moment with the boy with the bread.  From the first subtle touch of his hand against hers to now… 

 

A realization filtered through her.

 

“You’re it for me too, Peeta.  I just never really thought about it before.  The bread, the dandelion, the train.  It’s you.  It’s always been you.”

 

“I wish I’d known that before.  We could’ve done so much…”

 

She hovered above him, her lips millimeters from his.  “You’re here now.”

 

Their lips met in a soul-searing kiss.  Katniss put every ounce of her feelings into it, trying to let him know with her lips, mouth, and tongue just how much he meant to her.  How much she loved him.

 

And she did love him.  

 

Even if she couldn’t say the words, not yet, it didn’t make the feeling any less true.  Less real.  

 

Peeta’s hands slid up her body to cup her face while part of him much lower rose to press into her core almost tantalizingly.

 

She ground her body against him, the ember of desire from before turning into a full-fledged conflagration.  Her hands slid from his shoulders down his chest to divest him of his shirt so she could feel his skin.  He was hard in all of the right places, with just the tiniest bit of softness to hint at Peeta’s gentle demeanor.

 

Peeta’s hands were busy too, slipping under her thin undershirt to caress her shoulders and back.

 

She wanted more, so much more.  But she felt a twinge of discomfort at the thought that their first time, their only time, would be in front of all of Panem.

 

As if sensing her discomfort, Peeta pulled his lips from hers.  “Are you okay?”  The words were breathy, as if he’d just run from the Cornucopia.

 

“Yeah.”  Her hips angling into his.  “I want this.”

 

“Are you sure?  We can wait.”

 

Cupping his face in her palms, she stared down into his deep blue eyes, pupils blown wide.  “No.  We can’t.  Only one of us will make it out of here.  We’re down to the final three.”

 

“But--”

 

“No.  They won’t let both of us win.  So let me have this.”  She dropped a kiss on his mouth.  “Let me give you this.”

 

And after that, there were no more words, just the sound of two bodies joining and two hearts breaking in the same instant.

 

**oOo**


	6. Resolution

**oOo**

 

Katniss woke with the dawn, her limbs delightfully languid, with a pleasant fullness deep in her core.  Strong arms held her close, warming her, cradling her.  Peeta’s slow, comforting heartbeat thudded into her ear, the rhythm soothing.  She shifted, losing the fullness, but feeling her joints and back pop in appreciation. 

 

Peeta was still asleep, a little half-smile hovering on his lips.  As much as she didn’t want to wake him, that wasn’t an option.  They had to get up.  The Gamemakers wouldn’t let them stay like this for long.  

 

Besides, she thought, her stomach rumbling, she was hungry.

 

She placed a kiss on Peeta’s mouth.

 

His eyelids fluttered open.  “Hey.”

 

“Hey.”

 

“You’re real.”  His arms tightened around her. “I wasn’t sure if last night was a dream.”

 

Cradling his face in her hands, Katniss stared into his eyes.  “It was real. All of this was real.” She kissed his mouth with a seriousness bordering on despair.  She knew they didn’t have much time left together.  “We need to get up.  Get moving.”

 

Peeta nodded.  “Right.  The Games.” He paused, looking for the cameras they both knew were there.  “Do you think they’d give us a little more time?”

 

Katniss shook her head regretfully.

 

They dressed slowly, fingers touching, teasing, stopping frequently to plant reassuring kisses on each other’s mouths.  They both knew the Games were coming to an end, and they were striving to make every last second together a memorable one.

 

The Gamemakers didn’t give them long.  Almost as soon as they cast their nets into the stream, an unearthly howl shattered the early morning air, followed closely by some spine-tingling hissing.

 

The noises, the voices, were coming from the west and north.  Closer.  And closer.

 

Katniss and Peeta immediately dropped their nets, letting the stream carry them away.  They wouldn’t need the nets again.  They had bigger concerns. The two forded the stream to the other bank, casting nervous glances over their shoulders.

 

They didn’t have long to wait. From the treeline emerged ghostly white things. Eerie creations.  Unnatural creations. Muttations.  Half-lizard half-man in appearance, but all monster.  The mutts howled again, a vocalization chillingly reminiscent of human voices.

 

Katniss couldn’t help it; she shivered. 

 

Spotting them, the mutts’ howls changed to names.  Their names.

 

A chill flowed down Katniss’s spine as she heard Rue’s voice emerge from one of the smaller mutts’ mouths.  

 

No.

 

Oh please, no.

 

Peeta grabbed Katniss’s hand.  “We’ve got to go.”

 

The two tributes took off at a run, trying to get distance between them and the Gamemakers’ abominations.  From behind them, Katniss heard splashing, then branches cracking and breaking as the mutts pursued.  She wished she had her bow, but it was still back on the other side of the bank.  All she and Peeta had were her knife, their wits, and a pocket full of nightlock berries.

 

Not nearly enough to make a stand.

 

So they ran.

 

And ran. Ran until their chests ached.

 

Breaking through the underbrush, they crashed into the clearing surrounding the Cornucopia.  They shared a glance before pounding toward the multi-story metal structure.

 

Lungs heaving, hearts pounding, palms sweating, they clambered arm over arm up the slick metal sides. Peeta boosted her up with his strength, letting her scramble to the top.  She lay on her stomach, her arms outstretched.  He leapt up to catch her hand.  Between them he managed to hoist himself up.  

 

Lying on the smooth, cold metal, Katniss and Peeta caught their breath for a few moments before getting to their feet.  They stood on the edge, staring back at the woods, waiting for the mutts to follow them.

 

They did.  But they weren’t alone.

 

Ahead of a different group of mutts, Thresh emerged from the forest at a dead run.  In the morning light, the whites of his eyes were clearly visible.  Behind him were even more of the muttations calling out his name. He reached the Cornucopia and started to climb.

 

Unsure whether she should help or not, Katniss froze, paralyzed with indecision.  Beside her, Peeta crouched down, his hand outstretched. 

 

But it didn’t matter.

 

Thresh’s grip gave out.  He teetered, just out of Peeta’s reach.  He clawed frantically against the slick metal while his feet scrabbled for purchase.  It only made his situation worse.  One foot pushed off the side of the Cornucopia, sending him careening toward the ground. The force of his push twisted his body in mid-air so he fell shoulder-first onto the ground, landing on his neck with a sickening crunch.

 

The mutts stopped.

 

The whole world stopped.

 

Thresh wasn’t moving. 

 

Katniss gaped at the huge tribute, while overhead a cannon fired.

 

**oOo**

 

Thump.  Thump.  Thump.

 

Her heartbeat slowed.

 

Thump.  Thump.  Thump.

 

Peeta shifted, his footsteps ringing the Cornucopia like a bell.

 

Thump.  Thump.  Thump.

 

The twenty-one muttations spread themselves out, surrounding the Cornucopia, effectively cutting off any chance of escape.  

 

Penetrating the silent clearing, a mechanical buzz filtered in from overhead.  The hovercraft was coming to retrieve Thresh’s body.  It didn’t land, just dropped huge metal teeth to collect his body.  There was nothing human in that hovercraft.

 

It left, and all was silent.  Just her and Peeta and twenty-one muttations, standing and staring at each other in an empty clearing.

 

The muttations didn’t attack.  They wouldn’t attack.  They wanted her and Peeta to fight to the death, and they would stand there, menacing, until she and Peeta did.  

 

This was the kind of tension the Capitol lived for, talked about for years.  They wanted a good fight. A thrilling conclusion to this year’s Games. 

 

She’d be damned if she was going to give it to them.

 

“What do we do now?”  Peeta’s voice penetrated her consciousness.  “I’m not going to kill you.”

 

She turned to face him, her hand dipping into her pocket.  “You won’t have to.”

 

His eyes narrowed.  “What are you saying, Katniss?”

 

She pulled out some of the berries, cradling them in her hand.  They looked so innocent. So unassuming.  Who could guess they were so deadly?

 

“What are those?”  Peeta asked, his voice wary.

 

“Nightlock.”

 

“What’s nightlock?”

 

“The solution to our problem.”

 

His face twisted, understanding dawning.  “It’s poison, isn’t it.”  It wasn’t a question.

 

She nodded, her eyes still fixed on the cluster of berries in her hand.  “It’s the most deadly poison I know of.  My dad used to say just a drop would be enough to kill a man.”  She lifted her hand toward her mouth.  

 

Peeta leapt forward, knocking the berries out of her hand, scattering them across the surface of the Cornucopia.  One flew past her to fall to the ground below.  “No!  I won’t let you!”

 

Her eyes flew to his. “But I don’t want to kill you!”

 

“I don’t want to kill you either!” He grabbed her hands.  “But that doesn’t mean you have to die.”

 

“The Capitol has to have a winner.”  She didn’t need to say more.  That was the whole point of the Hunger Games: twenty-four tributes entered, one left.  Never in the history of the Games had a Victor died before their final interview.  Early on in the Games, one had died during the final interview, but never before.  “I don’t want to live without you.”  It was the truth.  Even though Cinna was her soulmate, Peeta was in possession of that soul.  It didn’t matter that she didn’t have his mark and he didn’t have hers.  She loved him.  

 

“I don’t want to live without you either, Katniss.  I love you.”  His voice faltered and broke.  “I love you,” he repeated.

 

“I know.”  She wanted to reach out, comfort him.  But instead she disengaged her hands and took a step back out of reach, pulling out the rest of the berries.  “I love you too.  Which is why I have to do this.”  She lifted her hand toward her mouth.

 

“No!  Wait!”  He bent, picking up two of the berries which had fallen by his foot.  “If you swallow those, I’m swallowing these.”

 

“Peeta…”

 

“I’m not living without you.  They can’t make me.”

 

Katniss felt the same.  She didn’t want to live without Peeta.  But the Capitol could make them do anything.  “But--”

 

“No.”  His eyes caught and held hers.  “Either they take us both or they don’t get either of us.”  He held up one of the berries between his thumb and forefinger.  “You say it takes just a drop?  This is more than a drop.”  He directed the last to the sky.  To the Capitol.  

 

“So we do this together?” she asked, struggling to keep the tears from overflowing.

 

Peeta nodded.  “On three.”

 

In unison, they counted down.  “One.  Two.  Three.”

 

The berries slipped past their lips, but before either of them could bite down, Claudius Templesmith’s voice shrieked out from overhead, “Stop!  Stop!  We’re pleased to announced the Victors of the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games, Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen!”

 

**oOo**


	7. Deception

**oOo**

 

The Capitol kept them separated.  

 

From the instant they entered the hovercraft, white-clad figures -- which were eerily reminiscent of the mutts they’d just run from -- separated the two, tearing their hands apart and injecting them with something.  When Katniss felt her legs buckle, she realized it must be some kind of sedative.  She tried to hold fast to Peeta.  But she couldn’t.  She prayed they wouldn’t harm the boy with the bread for forcing the Capitol’s hand. It was the last thought she had before she dropped.

 

When Katniss came to, she didn’t know how much time had passed.  Her whole body ached.  Especially her stomach. From her bed, she could make out four white walls.  Sterile.  Featureless.  A needle connected to a plastic bag jabbed into the back of her hand, while from behind her came the sound of a soft beep.  The air smelled of chemicals and a riot of perfume.

 

She groaned.  Turning her head, she spotted a figure out of the corner of her eye.  Seated in a chair near the foot of her bed was her soulmate.  Cinna.

 

“Where am I?” she asked, annoyed at how rough her voice sounded.

 

The stylist started, coming to his feet to stand next to her.  “You’re in the hospital.”  A ghost of a smile slid across his lips.  “And before you ask, you’ve been asleep for a week and a half.”

 

“Why so long?”  She wasn’t hurt, not really.  Yeah, she had the burn on her leg and some cuts and bruises from fighting, and yes she was undernourished like always, but both she and Peeta had survived the Games in remarkably good shape.  “Peeta!” she exclaimed.  “Where’s Peeta?”

 

“They let him out four days ago.”

 

“Why didn’t they let me out?”

 

“The doctors say you swallowed a little bit of the juice, and it took time for the antidote to leach all of the toxins from your system.”  There was something in the way he said it.  Like he was trying not to give any inflection to the words. 

 

Katniss frowned but didn’t say anything.  She’d never bit down, and she would’ve tasted something if she had.  She didn’t remember tasting anything.  Besides, nightlock juice killed a man in an instant.  If she’d bitten down, she’d be dead.  The poison worked so quickly.  There was no way for an antidote to be administered in time.  Something about this didn’t seem right.  But she couldn’t see any reason for them to lie. It didn’t make sense.

 

She glanced down at her body.  Nothing was changed, not really.  Sure, what scars she’d had were gone, but she didn’t have any modifications or additions.  And everything felt like it was in the right place.  Other than her stomach, all of her aches and pains could be explained by forced inactivity.

 

“Water?” she asked, looking around for something to drink.  She wanted to wash the cottony sourness from her tongue.

 

Cinna handed her a cup, and she sucked down the liquid gratefully.

 

Just then, a large jovial man wearing a lab coat burst into the room.  “Ah!  My radiant Victor!  It is such a pleasure to see you awake!”  His fan of bright blue hair bounced up and down in time with each word. “How are you feeling, my dear?”

 

Rather than answering, Katniss asked, “When can I leave?”

 

The man walked over and peered at something above her head.  “Well, assuming that the next round of tests come back positive, I think we can give you the all-clear.  I know that I speak for all of Panem when I say that I just can’t wait to see your and Peeta’s reunion!”

 

She wanted to say something, tell him that there was no way she was going to let that be filmed, but she didn’t.  There was something in the way he said it which made her think a ‘Star-Crossed Lovers of District Twelve’ reunion was already scripted and planned.  All it needed was the actors, and it’d be ready for Capitol consumption.

 

Instead, she said, “More water?”

 

“Oh!  Of course!”  He bent down and pulled a plastic bottle out, handing it to her.  “I’m sure you’re hungry, too.”

 

She nodded, a little taken aback by just how enthusiastic the doctor seemed to be.

 

The man positively skipped out of the room, leaving her and Cinna alone again.  She stared after him, wondering why he was so enthusiastic.  None of this made any sense. 

 

Her soulmate placed one warm hand on her arm, and her skin tingled in response.  It was a soothing tingle, not the heart-fluttering passion she felt from Peeta, but calmer, steadier.  

 

“I’m glad you made it through.”

 

“I had help,” she said, thinking of both Rue and Peeta.  Her heart squeezed at the thought of the former and how she’d died.  The young girl from District Eleven had deserved better.

 

Cinna seemed to know what she was thinking, because his thumb rubbed against her arm, grounding her.  “And you helped others.  Soon, this whole thing will be over and you’ll be back home.”

 

“Until the Victory Tour.”

 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.  For now just take it one day at a time, Girl on Fire.  One day at a time.”

 

**oOo**

 

After dinner, Cinna left to take a shower and get food of his own, leaving her alone.  Well, technically, not alone.  Haymitch was with her, but he’d staggered into the room and promptly collapsed in Cinna’s chair, and, with a swig of his flask, fell asleep.  So she might as well have been alone.  She stared at various machines attached to her, trying to figure out what they did.  It was something to pass the time.

 

The door to her room opened and a nightmare stepped through.  

 

President Snow.  

 

Red mouth, yellow eyes, white beard.  

 

As he entered, Katniss was assaulted by the stench of blood and roses.  It turned her already sensitive stomach, and her bland hospital-approved dinner threatened to make a reappearance.

 

“Ah, my dear Miss Everdeen.  How lovely to finally make your acquaintance,” he greeted with a sickening grin.  “You’re quite the enigma, my dear.”

 

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

 

“Yes, you’re quite the puzzle.  What do I do with you?”  He tapped the side of his bearded face with one finger.  “You’ve shown you have very little regard for following the rules, but I can’t very well punish you and Mr. Mellark for falling in love, now can I?”

 

The blood drained from her cheeks.  “Why are you here?”

 

“Such directness.  Refreshing, really.”  He took a step closer, clasping his hands in front of him.  “I propose, my dear Miss Everdeen, that we not lie to each other.”

 

She shrugged.  “I’m not a good liar anyway.”  If he would tell the truth, she’d at least know where she stood.

 

“No, I don’t believe you are.”  Snow steepled his hands and leaned forward.  “So, my dear, you do understand that Mr. Mellark is not your soulmate.”

 

Her stomach plummeted.  How did he even know that?  Had he searched both their bodies while they were unconscious?  It seemed the most likely explanation.  Knowing that the question was likely a test, Katniss said, “I do.”

 

A brief nod.  “And I’m assuming you’ve met your soulmate.”  Another test. 

 

“Obviously.  I have my mark.”

 

“And who is the lucky person to be matched with you, my dear?”  Snow’s eyes were intent, like Buttercup when stalking a mouse.  

 

“He’s gone,” she said, thankful that Cinna wasn’t there in the room.  She wasn’t lying, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.  Her heart beat double-time in her chest.  She prayed the machines around her wouldn’t give her away.  

 

“Ah.  I see.” His eyes flicked away.  “Pity.  May I assume that you met your soulmate here in the Capitol?”  His eyes narrowed.  “Don’t bother trying to lie.  I’ve seen the tapes from the Remake Center.  I know your mark wasn’t present when you arrived.”

 

He had looked at her body.  What else had he seen?  Katniss tried her best to keep from shuddering.  “I did.”  She thought it was best to keep her answers as short as possible.  She’d give less away that way.

 

Even if they seemed to piss the president off.  Snow’s eyes flashed.  “And just who might the lucky gentleman be?”

 

“I told you, he’s gone.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away.  “It doesn’t matter.”

 

“It matters to me.” The words came out in a hiss.  “A name, Miss Everdeen.  Now.”

 

Katniss wracked her brain, trying to think of someone.  Anyone.  Anyone other than the truth.  The only names she could come up with were Cato’s and Thresh’s.  In desperation, she said, “Thresh.”  She regarded the president out of her peripheral vision.  She hoped he’d buy the falsehood.

 

Snow leaned back, a pleased smile oozing across his red lips.  “There.  That wasn’t so hard.”

 

She tightened her arms around her body to keep the relieved sigh from escaping.  She’d done it.  She’d fooled him.

 

So why did she feel so terrible?

 

“In retrospect, it’s so obvious.  Why he left you alive after that unfortunate explosion.  Why you were so upset over his accidental death.”  He paused, placing a cold hand over hers.  “You have my condolences, Miss Everdeen.”

 

“Thank you,” she mumbled, still refusing to meet his gaze.

 

“No.  Thank you.  You’ve answered all of my questions.”  Snow turned, walking to the door.  “And for that I am grateful.  You’ve eased my mind greatly.  So let me ease yours.  I promise I won’t do anything to you or your beloved Mr. Mellark now.  After all, who can stand in the way of true love?  Certainly not I.”

 

As he left the room, Katniss shivered.  The words were meant to be reassuring, but somehow, deep in her heart, she knew they were a threat.

 

**oOo**


	8. Revelation

**oOo**

 

There were butterflies in her stomach as she walked up onstage for the Victory Ceremony.  She scanned the stage, looking for Peeta, but didn’t see him.  Turning her eyes to the crowd, Katniss spotted her soulmate, a warm, encouraging smile on his lips.  Just like during her first interview with Caesar, Cinna was there, adding his own special level of support.

 

She barely heard Caesar’s excited utterances.  Where was Peeta?  She needed to see Peeta.

 

A panel slid to one side and suddenly there he was.  

 

Dashing across the stage, he pulled her into his arms as if he wasn’t sure she was real.  She knew how he felt, because she felt the same.  Her fingertips mapped the smooth planes of his face, partially to convince herself he was real, but also to prevent herself from kissing him in front of all of Panem.  

 

Resting his forehead against hers, he murmured, “Hey.”

 

“Hey.”  The words were breathy and sounded nothing like her real voice.  She hated it.  She relished the sensation of of Peeta’s arms around her.  She wanted to escape into them. Forget where she was. 

 

But she couldn’t.

 

Caesar cleared his throat and motioned for them to take a seat on an overly large chair.  Not quite a bench, but something the Capitolite called a loveseat.  It was just wide enough for both of them to sit, as long as they didn’t mind their sides touching.

 

She didn’t.

 

Peeta leaned back and wrapped his arm around her.  Katniss curled into him.  Having him there, his strength and solidity, would hopefully make it a little less terrible.

 

Then the torture began.

 

For the next three hours, Katniss and Peeta were subjected to the “highlights” of this year’s Games.  Each year, the Gamemakers presented a theme, an overarching narrative to add coherence to a senseless bloodbath.  From the moment the first note played, Katniss knew what the overarching theme for this year would be: romance.  Specifically, her and Peeta’s star-crossed love story.  Everything was oriented toward their love.  The music, the lighting, even the choice of what to show.  The recap lingered on the pre-Game moments, including footage from their bedroom in the Training Center.

 

Katniss felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment, and she buried her face in Peeta’s shoulder.  She should have guessed the Capitol would have cameras everywhere.  Snow’s comments in the medical center hinted at that.  

 

Peeta held her close, teasing his fingers through her hair and down her neck in a soothing motion.  She tuned out the world, letting everything narrow to the sensation of Peeta’s fingers on her skin.

 

Finally, the film drew to a close.  But that didn’t mean the humiliation was over.  Now it was time for the uncomfortable question-and-answer, where Caesar asked them what they were thinking when they killed such-and-such tribute, and the hapless Victor tried to come up with something other than “Well, it was either him or me” or “I really wanted to go home.”  Not even Finnick Odair could come up with something eloquent when asked that after his Games.  Although he’d tried. 

 

However, instead of asking about what it felt like to drop the tracker jacker nest on the Careers, Caesar led off with, “So, instead of our usual exciting lineup, I have just received some very special news that I’d like to share with you right now.”  He flashed an envelope back and forth, as if it contained the formula for no-fade hair dye.  “Katniss.  Peeta.  Let me say it’s been an honor to be a part of your love story.”

 

The two teens shared a glance before Peeta said, “We couldn’t think of anybody better to share it with.”  It was a lie but the Capitol ate it up, the audience cheering for them.

 

So did Caesar.  Slapping a hand over his chest, he cooed, “Oh my heart!  Aren’t they just precious, folks?  Don’t you just love them?”

 

The crowd roared in appreciation.

 

Caesar motioned for them to calm down.  “Save your voices, folks, save your voices!  You’re going to need them in a few moments.”  He turned back to the dual Victors.  “Katniss.  Peeta.  I have here the most exciting, most wonderful, most amazing news!”

 

“Well, gosh, Caesar.”  To Katniss, Peeta’s voice sounded forced, but she didn’t think anybody else would notice.  He went on, “Just give us the news!  You’re making us all nervous over here.”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”  Caesar tore open the envelope and pulled out a piece of paper.  “Katniss and Peeta, let me be the first to congratulate you.  You’re pregnant!”  He paused dramatically.  “With twins!”

 

Katniss did the only thing she could in that moment.  Her mouth dropped open and she stared at the older man in shock.

 

**oOo**

 

Katniss stood on the roof of the Training Center, looking out over the still-jubilant Capitol, her stomach roiling.  The palms of her hands were pressed against her still-flat, almost concave, stomach.  But somewhere deep inside of her was life.  A baby.  Two babies. Peeta’s babies.

 

When she volunteered for her sister, she thought that the worst that could happen was that she’d end up killed, just one more dead tribute from Twelve.  Now, as the enormity of being a Victor, having a soulmate, being in love, being a mother crashed down on her, she realized dying was so much easier than living.

 

The scrape of a foot across the pavement behind her intruded on her consciousness.  It wasn’t Peeta; whoever it was moved much too quietly for that.  And from the calm which descended upon her as a warm hand cupped her right shoulder, she knew who it was.  Cinna.  Her soulmate.

 

“I thought I’d find you up here.”

 

“I needed some air.”

 

“Peeta thinks you’re angry at him.”

 

Ducking her head, Katniss asked, “Did he say that?”

 

“No, but he didn’t have to.  Where you’re concerned, his feelings are an open book.”

 

“Not to me,” she said, tightening her arms around herself.  “People confuse me.  Peeta confuses me.”

 

“You’re the center of his world.  I can see how that could be confusing.”  He stepped closer to her, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on the top of her head.  “I also imagine it’s a bit overwhelming.”

 

“What isn’t overwhelming?”

 

“Fair enough,” he murmured into her ear.  “How can I help?”

 

She leaned back, letting his warmth seep through her, his calm.  With Peeta, she felt on fire, constantly burning with need and love and desire.  But Cinna was more solid, like wood.  Or maybe even the earth.  He didn’t want to douse her flame, she knew that.  Instead he’d support her in whatever ways she needed.  With a deep breath, she voiced the thoughts which had been running through her head ever since Caesar’s announcement.  “I never wanted to have children.”

 

Cinna hummed, encouraging her to continue.

 

“I still don’t want them.”

 

“That’s fair.” His arms tightened around her. “I imagine you’d be afraid of losing them.”

 

Katniss nodded.  “Not just to the Games.  But to starvation or disease.”

 

He hummed again. 

 

“But I don’t have to worry about the last two now.  I’m a Victor.  I’ll be able to afford food and drugs.  But…”

 

“But… your children would be likely to be Reaped.”

 

“I’m having twins.  A boy and a girl, that’s what Caesar said.  It’s how they knew,” she said, repeating the explanation of how they’d known she was carrying not one, but two babies.  “The Capitol…” she trailed off.

 

“The Capitol won’t be able to resist having a set of twins in the same Games.”

 

“Especially from the only dual Victors of the Hunger Games,” she said grimly.  President Snow had said he wouldn’t do anything to her or Peeta.  He hadn’t mentioned their children, even though he’d almost certainly already known she was pregnant.

 

“So what are you going to do?  No. What do you want to do?” Cinna said, placing extra emphasis on the word ‘want.’

 

“What I want to do is not be pregnant.  But…”

 

“But?”

 

She stared down at the crowds below. “Part of me wants it too.  They’re Peeta’s.  His gift to me.  If I’d lost him, I’d still have his children, you know?”

 

“I don’t.  But I can imagine.”  He paused for a moment.  “You’re feeling guilty, aren’t you?”  At her nod, he continued,  “You shouldn’t.  It’s completely normal to feel conflicted about this.  It’s a huge deal.  You’ve just survived one life-changing experience, only to be confronted with another one.  It’s okay to be overwhelmed and scared.  I’d be scared if I were in your shoes.”

 

She nodded again.

 

“But you know who else is scared?”

 

“Peeta…”

 

“He is.  Maybe you should talk to him so you can be scared together.  After all, you made it through the Games together.  You can make it through this together.”

 

“I’m glad you’re my soulmate.”

 

“Me too.”

 

“I love you,” she said after a few moments.  “But not the same way that I love Peeta.”

 

She felt his smile against the back of her head.  “That’s good.  I love you too, Girl on Fire. I’ve always believed that soulmates didn’t have to be romantic.  How else can you explain the extremely strong friendships we see throughout written history?”  He paused as if gathering his thoughts.  “I read somewhere that there’s three kinds of love.  Love of the body, love of the mind, love of the soul.  Love of the soul… it’s the kind of love that’s patient and kind and it doesn’t require anything physical.  You make me want to become a better person, Katniss.  That’s why you’re my soulmate.  You make me a better me.”

 

It was the longest thing she’d ever heard him say.  But she realized that the words rang true.  Cinna understood her in ways Peeta never could.  She quickly revised her earlier assessment.  If she was the flame, then Cinna was the air which allowed it life, while Peeta was the green, the life, which grew in the aftermath.  That green would provide her fuel, creating a never-ending cycle of life, death, and rebirth.  Without the air Cinna provided, she’d suffocate and die.  But without Peeta, she’d have never survived beyond a spark.

 

She glanced down at her hands, still protectively cradling her stomach.  “I think I need to talk to him about this.  About us.”

 

“That sounds like a wise course.”  He squeezed her lightly.  “I just want you to know, no matter what you decide, I’ll stand beside you the whole way.”

 

**oOo**

 

Katniss stared at the ornately-painted door in front of her.  Like so many things in the Capitol, it had been embellished and embossed with so many details that all sense of beauty had been lost and instead it was just a jumbled mess.  Beautifully burled wood had been painted and carved so extensively that Katniss’s head ached just looking at it.  Why couldn’t the Capitol leave already-beautiful things as they were?  Why did they have to turn it into a grotesque shadow of itself?

 

Hanging in the center of the door was a brass knocker, the rich cousin version of the one that hung on Cray’s front door.  She’d been staring at that knocker for several minutes, trying to work up the courage to lift the handle.  She needed to talk to Peeta.  Really needed to talk to Peeta.  But at the same time, she dreaded the conversation.

 

The door opened, revealing Peeta.  When he saw her, he took a half-step back.  “Katniss?”  He regarded her.  “Are you okay?”

 

She nodded, the words sticking in her throat.

 

“Did you want to talk?”

 

She nodded again.

 

“Did you want to come in?”

 

She shook her head.

 

“Okay.  Where do you want to go?”

 

Wordlessly, she held her hand out to him.  He took it without hesitation.

 

She led him back up to the roof where she’d left Cinna who knows how long ago.  She hoped her soulmate had left; as much as she could use his strength, this was something that needed to stay between Peeta and her.  She hoped he’d be perceptive enough to figure that out.

 

Thankfully, the roof was empty when she got up there.  She led Peeta to the very edge and rested her hands on the railing.  In the streets below, the crowds were still celebrating, like they had the night before the Games.  Even thirteen stories up, she could hear the cheers.

 

Standing next to her, Peeta glanced over the edge.  “I don’t think I’ll ever understand the Capitol.  You’d think they were the ones who’d won the Hunger Games.”

 

“They did.”  They were the first words she’d said.  “We didn’t win.  No one who goes into that Arena wins.  Only the Capitol.”

 

Peeta came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her in a mirror of Cinna’s stance.  Like with her soulmate, she felt a wash of peace flow through her.

 

“What did you want to talk about?” he murmured into her ear.  “I’m guessing you don’t want to have this conversation overheard.”

 

She nodded, then realized he couldn’t see the motion, so she turned in his embrace to face him.  “Snow knows I have a soulmate.”  The words tumbled from her lips.  “And he knows it’s not you.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah.”  She looked down, not meeting his eyes.  “Oh.”

 

“You met them here.”  It wasn’t a question.

 

She nodded.

 

“Who does Snow think it is?”

 

“Thresh.”

 

“But it wasn’t Thresh.”

 

She shook her head.

 

“Are they alive?”

 

She bit her lower lip, unsure if she should nod or not.

 

Peeta swore under his breath.  “You don’t need to tell me who it is.  I just need to know… did you want to be with them?”

 

“Not like I want to be with you.”  She soldiered on, sensing that, if she didn’t bridge the chasm widening between them, she’d lose Peeta, and she didn’t want that.  “When I met hi--them,” she hastily corrected, just in case Snow was listening, “the first thought that went through my mind is that I didn’t want them.  I wanted you.  It didn’t matter that they were my soulmate and you weren’t.  I didn’t love them.”  She drew a deep breath and met his eyes.  “I love you.”  She waited, her heart laid bare.  She knew that the next move was Peeta’s, and she hoped, no prayed, he wouldn’t leave her.

 

His arms tightened around her, but the words that came out of his mouth were unexpected.  “Did I ever tell you that I had a soulmate?”

 

What?

 

She shook her head.

 

“I don’t know if you remember, but Madge had an identical twin sister.  Mabel.”

 

She cast her mind back.  By the time she’d started eating lunch with Madge, there hadn’t been a sister.  But she vaguely remembered seeing the two blonde girls on Reaping Day, and at the District-wide celebrations, when she’d been barely a child.  She nodded.  “She was your soulmate?”

 

“Yeah.”  Peeta held up his left hand, motioning to the space between his ring finger and middle finger.  “You can just barely make it out, but my soulmark’s here.”  He pointed to the webbing between his fingers.

 

She held his hand up to the light, straining to see the mark hidden there.  It was small, barely the length of her fingernail.  The outline of a single dandelion seed in gray.

 

“Hers was on her foot.  Her big toe.  Easy enough to hide.  Even mine… a little dirt, a little flour.  No one was the wiser.”

 

“I would’ve thought your parents would be happy about it.”

 

“They were.  The Undersees weren’t.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Mayor Undersee’s soulmate was Mrs. Undersee’s dead sister, Maysilee.  She died in the Second Quarter Quell.  To the Undersees, soulmates just meant pain.”  His arms tightened around her.  “They weren’t wrong.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“It was an accident.  Madge and Mabel were playing tag when Mabel tripped and fell down the stairs.  She was dead as soon as she hit the landing.  Broken neck.  Madge has never forgiven herself.  My mother tried to push for an engagement between me and Madge, said we’d be like the Mayor and his wife.”  He shook his head.  “I’m glad she failed.”

 

“I’m sorry about Mabel.”

 

“Sounds horrible, but I can’t imagine loving her like I love you.  She was a friend.  A good friend, but I fell in love with you the moment I heard you sing.  I was five.  Mabel had died that summer, but what I felt for her?  A drop in the ocean to what I feel for you.”

 

She leaned up on her tiptoes, her hands snaking around his neck.  When their lips met, Katniss felt embers deep in her belly come roaring back to life.  This was Peeta, the man she loved.  The man she’d chosen to love.

 

She pulled away, sinking back on her heels.  “So what do we do now?”

 

His fingers slipped around to rest at her waist, just over the children she carried.  “I don’t know.  But whatever we do, we do it together.”

 

“Together.”

 

**oOo**

**Author's Note:**

> AN:  
> Written for the wonderful MTK4FUN. You are amazingly awesome and such an integral part of the community. We hope people don’t take you for granted. All the hugs!
> 
> We decided to go for a different form of soulmarks this time. We still like the words, but it’s fun to try new things too.
> 
> This was originally a one-shot but then we had too many ideas. 
> 
> Volition:  
> 1 : the power of choosing or determining : will   
> 2 : an act of making a choice or decision; also : a choice or decision made 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Let us know what you think!
> 
> Curious about what else we’re doing? Check out our original writing under the name Christina Rose Andrews on [tumblr](http://christinaroseandrews.tumblr.com/), [twitter](https://twitter.com/croseandrews), [facebook](https://www.facebook.com/christinaroseandrews/), and at [our website!](https://www.roselarkpublishing.com/christina-rose-andrews)


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